How I visit my husband at work

As I’ve mentioned several times, I’ve been pretty sick with this pregnancy. I thought it was going to be a better pregnancy than the last because I wasn’t throwing up everyday, but that started to change a few weeks ago. I had been feeling okay in the beginning of the week, but by the time the weekend came, I was pretty much out of commission. On Saturday, Chris called in a new prescription for me since what I had been taking didn’t really seem to be working all that well, but the new pill didn’t work at all.

On Sunday, I didn’t keep anything down all day. That made church a real joy. But I just chalked it up to having a crappy day, hoping that meant Monday would be better.

It wasn’t.

It was way worse.

Again, I didn’t keep any food down all day (making sitting there during Miles’s speech therapy really fun), but it wasn't until late in the day that I started to realize that I wasn’t keeping water down either. I talked to my mom who suggested trying just a teaspoon of water and seeing if I could keep it down for 30 minutes. I couldn’t. And then I made the mistake of eating one of Miles’s fruit snacks. Why was that a mistake? Because I threw up that one fruit snack for about an hour. It was too late to call the triage nurse line at my ob’s office, but I did have the cell number of my ob. Of course I also tried getting a hold of Chris, but he’s not usually able to answer his phone while he’s working.

My doctor called me back at about 6 and told me that I needed to go get rehydrated in the ER. Really? I didn’t want to go to the ER just because I was throwing up, but he convinced me that it was more serious than that.

At that point I called the ER main number and asked to speak to my husband to let him know that I would be visiting him at work. He told me to wait for my parents to get to our house to watch Miles (an hour) and then come over. Then he called back two minutes later to say that the nurse yelled at him for making me wait and that they could handle watching Miles when I got there if they needed to. So Miles and I got in the car and made our first trip to the ER.

And let me tell you, I did not like it one bit. I’m not a big fan of hospitals in the first place, but the waiting room of the ER has to be the worst place there. And then of course the people behind the glass wouldn’t acknowledge my existence even though they all looked at me as I stood there clearly needing to tell them something. I knew they just wanted me to put down my clipboard and walk away, but I just wanted to someone to let my husband know that his wife and child were there. But no, that would be too much to ask. It wasn’t until a nurse saw me that I was given any attention. But then she misunderstood what I was trying to say because she responded with, “Well, we treat everyone the same so it doesn't matter if your husband works here.” Even though it kind of does.

A few minutes later Chris came out to see us, and a few minutes after that, I was called back. I’m sure the other people in the waiting room were pretty upset about that. But in my defense, I looked way sicker than any of them.  And Chris confirmed to me later that none of them were very sick.

After I was shown to my room, the nurses got right to work on putting in my IV and Miles got right to work trying to tear the room apart. Luckily my parents got there shortly after that so that my mom could take him home and put him to bed. That is, after giving him some very late dinner because I realized that I hadn’t given him much besides fruit snacks all night.

I stayed in the ER four about three hours and was given the standard fluids and medicines, and then what my doctor called, “the bad bag” because it always gets rid of nausea. It worked likes magic (even carrying into the next few days because it had steroids in it); I even cleaned my floors the next day.

Since then, I have been feeling so much better. I had about two weeks vomit free. And then one day that threw a wrench in my streak. But I’ve been okay for the past few days. And since I’m officially in my second trimester, I’m starting to feel like more of a human and less of a zombie. Hopefully it sticks.

Bottom line: this pregnancy is not better than the last.

Still undecided on whether there will be another one in the future.

Christmas 2011

A few days before Christmas, baby #2 decided to start making Mommy feel really yucky all of the time, making Christmas only semi-enjoyable for our family. Here’s a run-down of what we did because if I don’t record this, I’ll feel bad for the rest of my life.

On Christmas Eve Eve, we decided to take Miles to see the lights at the zoo. And since we had snow a few days before, it was cold. Very cold. But Miles did get to meet Santa in a really smelly building. He was happy until it was his turn to actually sit on Santa’s lap.

 

Oh well. There’s always next year.

Chris has Christmas Eve off, so my parents drove down to meet us at our lot (did  I mention that we’re building a house?) and then to spend the rest of the day with us. After looking at our pile of dirt, we headed to Subway for lunch where I had my first official vomit-in-the-parking-lot for this pregnancy. Yay!

After lunch we headed over to our house for nap time for Miles and for me. I ended up spending the entire rest of the day and night throwing up about every hour. I have a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t morning sickness but instead a bit of the flu. Luckily no one else got it because I was essentially quarantined.

But what this meant for poor Chris was that he spent his night playing Santa all by himself. I had managed to wrap his presents a few days earlier but that’s it. Nothing for my family or for Miles had been wrapped (or assembled in some cases), and I hadn’t done anything with the stocking stuffers (some of which were meant for Chris). This made for some interesting wrapped presents. Like the boxes of deodorants that I had picked up at Costco but had somehow ended up with the pile of presents. It was cute.

Luckily I woke up feeling better on Christmas morning, so after Miles had breakfast, we opened as many presents as we could before Chris had to leave for work.

The only presents Miles cared about were cars, and these are the only toys he has played with for the last month. Literally. He does not play with anything else. Ever.

 

After I took my sweet time getting ready (it’s amazing how little energy I had after a day of vomiting), Miles and I headed to my parents house for the day. I spent a good amount of time sitting in the comfy chair watching everyone else do things. Merry Christmas.

Here we go again

Let’s rewind to 2009 for a second when I wrote some pretty serious blasphemies against Eve in this post. I feel the urge to curse her again. Yes, folks, I’m pregnant again. Which explains my disappearance from cataloging our family life on this here blog. And why do I sometimes curse against Eve? Because I’m sick. And tired. And sick.

I’m only 9 1/2 weeks along, but we had an ultrasound last week (I think it was our doctor’s way of giving another doctor some special treatment even though we have to pay for it), we feel pretty confident in telling the world. We told our families on Christmas (my parents on Christmas Eve because they saw vomiting first hand) and have been telling people here and there, but I guess it’s official once you put it on the internet.

So far this pregnancy has been very different than my first. I’m still sick, but at different times. With Miles, I threw up every morning until like 18 weeks. But this time I get worse in the afternoons and evenings, making dinner time and the “witching hour” very difficult. I remember being tired with Miles (often falling asleep by 8:30 in the couch), but not tired like I am now. I just have NO energy. I do a lot of parenting from the couch. And the floor of the bathroom. I often don’t change out of my pjs until the afternoon when I finally shower during Miles’ naptime, and then mostly I put on another set of pjs when I’m done. I don’t do my hair. I don’t put on make-up. And I don’t leave the house unless it’s to refill my prescription for anti-nausea pills, which don’t seem to be working like they did last time. Oh, and I surely don’t clean. Or cook. I’m utterly useless.

Luckily I have a husband with much patience. He surely doesn’t enjoy this time, but he does a good job at getting things done when I can’t. Like Christmas (more on that later).

But my doctor suggested a prescription bracelet, not the one from the tv commercials of people at the mall, but one he swears really works. Insurance doesn’t cover it, so it costs a pretty penny, but I’ll pay anything for some relief from nausea. Chris was actually at the appointment with me and seemed eager to get it. It’s supposed to be delivered to my door sometime soon, and I’m really hoping it works.

Even with all of the bad stuff, we are excited to add another member of our family, even if we disagree about what gender we would prefer. We might have to find out the sex this time so that neither one of us has a sliver of disappointment once it’s born into this world.

And here’s our little peanut with tiny arm and leg buds:

Not a snow bunny

We had some really good snow a few weeks ago, and although it wasn’t our first snow since moving here, it was the first one that Miles was fully prepared for; it took me a while to collect the essential gear. Side note: it’s really hard to find mittens in his size.

So after I shoveled the drive, I thought Miles might enjoy going out to play. I was wrong.

Just trying to figure out what to do.

Thinking maybe he should touch it.

Thinking that wasn’t a good idea. This kids hates things on his hands. In fact, he wouldn’t move until I wiped all of the snow off.

And no experience would be complete without a toddler tantrum, which only got worse when I made him go around to the garage before going inside.

He did seem to enjoy being pulled on his toddler-sized sled by Daddy, but because I was watching from the warmth of the kitchen, there are no pictures. But I’m sure we’ll have plenty more snow to come.

At least it wasn’t flour

On Friday morning while I was getting ready, this is what Miles did to pass the time.

I wish there were some way to lock my pantry, but alas, accordion doors are made for children to open (and smash their fingers in occasionally).